


Wanna See (What’s Under That Attitude)

by seekrest



Series: All’s Well That Ends Well (to End Up With You) [2]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, College Student Peter Parker, Drinking & Talking, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Slow Burn, and they were ROOMMATES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 06:23:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20773985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: It didn’t hurt so much to think of Gwen now, but if there was anything good that came out of it, he’d gotten to meet Michelle.He dismisses the thought as soon as it comes to mind. Michelle was smart, funny - hot - Peter was stinging from a breakup, not blind.But he knew all too well that nothing good could come from messing around with his roommate.





	Wanna See (What’s Under That Attitude)

“Parker, what’s your deal?”

Peter glanced up to Michelle, watching as she poured herself another drink. He bit his lip, turning his attention back to the television.

“My deal is it’s freezing as hell outside and you’re trying to get me to go out. Didn’t I embarrass myself enough last weekend?”

He can hear Michelle’s giggle from the kitchen, a tell-tale sign for Peter that she’s moved past tipsy to drunk since the Michelle he knew rarely let herself smile for long. He looked back up to her, sighing as she grabbed the bottle of cheap vodka, two shot glasses and tottered over to him. 

She had on heels that Peter were sure could kill a man and knowing Michelle for a little over two months, he wasn’t so sure she hadn’t. Michelle was all fire and passion and intensity, sarcastic in a way that would make Peter think she’d seen some shit but from all he could glean from their dinner conversations - had had a relatively happy life.

Two parents. Annoying little sister. Full ride to MIT.

He didn’t usually make a habit of figuring out the inner lives of his roommates, he had enough experience and history to know from living with different people every year he was in college that there was just some things you didn’t want to know. 

He’d originally planned on moving in with Gwen for senior year but then she’d moved to California halfway through their junior year and…

Peter winced as Michelle plopped down next to him, the cushion moving slightly from the movement. She set the glasses down on their coffee table, Peter watching as her hand slightly shook from pouring out the liquid.

It didn’t hurt so much to think of Gwen now, the anger he’d felt last month borne more out of his own misery at fooling himself into thinking they had actually had a chance to make it work. He’d been an idiot, Peter knew that - but if there was anything good to come out of it, moving into yet another random apartment with strangers - he’d gotten to meet Michelle.

He dismisses the thought as soon as it comes to mind, shaking his head. Michelle was smart, funny - hot - Peter was stinging from a breakup, not blind. But he knew all too well from previous roommate experience and basic common sense that nothing good could come from messing around with his roommate. 

“First of all, hell is universally assumed to be hot, not cold. Seriously, Parker it’s like you didn’t even pay attention to the conversations we have sometimes. Anyway that’s besides the point. Come on, pre-game with me.” 

Peter laughs as Michelle extends a shot glass towards him.

“I think you’ve moved beyond pre-gaming to straight up drinking.”

“And? Still trying to get over the taste of that jungle juice bullshit from last week anyway. By the time I get to Cantab, I won’t care about what kind of shit the guys there have to say to me.”

She shoves the glass toward him, Peter taking it so it doesn’t spill all over the couch.

“Drink up, get dressed and come with me.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I told you,” Peter watched as she slung the shot back, going for the bottle again to refill it. “I’m not interested in all that shit right now.”

“Oh boo hoo Parker, we’ve all been fucking dumped. Look at me, going out and handling it like a champ.” 

Peter says nothing, returning Michelle’s gaze as her eyes locked with his. There’s a sign of vulnerability swimming behind her bright brown eyes, the memory of last weekend’s party - and that stupid banana costume - rushing back to him.

* * *

“Hah! Nice one, Parker!”

“Gotta split but I like your style, Pete.”

“Is that a banana or are you just happy to see me?”

“That wasn’t even original.” Peter muttered as some smug frat guy lumbered past them, Michelle laughing.

“I’m actually surprised, I think that’s only the third dick joke we’ve heard tonight.”

“Can we _ please _ go? You did it, I’m officially humiliated.” Peter pleaded, in vain he knew - as Michelle shook her head, bringing her cup to her lips.

“Nope. Bet’s a bet. You said you’d wear the thing all night and it’s,” Michelle glanced at her watch before taking a swig, “10:47 so you still have an hour and change before we can leave.”

“You’re a sadist.”

“Save the dirty talk for the bedroom, Parker. Don’t do the crime if you can’t serve the time.” 

Michelle is flippant as she turns away from him, waving to some person who was frantically waving back at her. Peter’s glad for the distraction, if only because he feels like his face is beet red - flushed from the alcohol and from Michelle’s words.

As mortifying as the whole ordeal was, Peter thinks he’d still had a relatively good time. Michelle was good company over dinner and drinks at home and now, a little tipsy and in a skirt that showed off her long legs, Peter couldn’t help but enjoy himself - even in this ridiculous costume. 

“Can we at least sit down? I’m tired of people bumping into me. Why’d you even choose a house party, we can get into real bars now.” Just as he said it, a sorority girl giggles as she brushes past him, Michelle holding back a smirk as Peter rolls his eyes.

“Did you _ want _to go to real bar in this get up? And I don’t know, Parker. Think this costume is helping you get more action than you’ve had in months.”

“And how would _ you _ know that?”

“Didn’t.” Michelle shrugged, a sly grin on her face. “But since you just confirmed it…”

Peter bites his lip, looking away. She was right, he hadn’t so much as flirted with anyone since Gwen had left - not for lack of opportunity. He got a couple numbers slid over to him just a few weeks after she’d transferred, asked out a handful of times for study dates where he knew the other person wasn’t interested in studying anything academic.

But Peter had been faithful - stupidly, now he thought - to the idea that Gwen would still want to be with him. 

Instead of facing that, he turns back to Michelle. “What about you?”

“Hmm?” She smiles, leaning against the doorframe they’re under. 

“You slept with anyone since Harry?”

He says it casually but it strikes a nerve, the smug smile on her face dropping in an instant. Peter wonders if he’s crossed a line, their easy back and forth made them seem like they were friends but Peter knew they really weren’t, not yet anyway. 

He knew Harry was a sore spot, the brief moments that she ever mentioned him making her tense and agitated. Peter almost thinks to apologize before she laughs - a little forcefully - and shakes her head.

“Please Parker, I was hitting the town the next weekend. I’m not some idiot hung up on their ex for months.”

Peter takes the stinging remark in stride, confirming for himself that he’d hit at something that Michelle was still sensitive about. He wasn’t sure what made Michelle the person that she was today or what exactly Harry did but Peter knew well enough - from living with dozens of different people by this point - that it was easier just to pick your battles.

“You’re right, you’re right, only one idiot in the apartment and you’re looking at him.” He jokes, putting his hand up and giving her a small smile.

She returns it but Peter can tell the smile doesn’t reach her eyes, watching as she downs whatever’s left of her drink.

“Alright. I’m gonna mingle. Bobby Keane from my lit class said he’d be there and we got some things to discuss.”

The way she says it is heavy with intent and a bit more pointed than what Peter expected - especially since they’d been at this party for three hours and she’d yet to mention him until this point - but he takes the hint, nodding his head.

“Alright well, I guess I’ll just hang around here?”

“Fine. Do whatever you want, Parker. I’m not your mother.” 

She walks away without another word, leaving Peter as he watches her fade into the crowd.

* * *

Peter blinks away the memory, knowing that he had to have been forgiven for Michelle to be offering to go out with him again. 

He’d seen her later at the party, her tongue down some redhead’s throat who he must’ve guessed was Bobby Keane - Peter feeling an unexplainable urge to vomit at the sight. It was made worse when a little over an hour later - when midnight had rolled around and he could finally leave - that he looked around for Michelle, only to see her as she shot him the finger, laughing as Bobby kissed her neck before disappearing out the door.

They were roommates, not friends - and yet Peter couldn’t help but feel as if he’d been ditched, wondering to himself how much his comment about Harry had to have gotten to Michelle. 

The following week hadn’t exactly been awkward, splitting some chicken lo mein one night and Michelle making enchiladas the night before. It almost felt like normal, albeit a bit more casual - Michelle looking a little more relaxed, though he wondered how much of it was an act.

A part of Peter wondered if it was the high of winning the bet. The smarter part of him knew that for all their talk, maybe Michelle was right and he just needed to get laid.

“Well? You coming or not?”

Peter glances at the drink in his hand then back to Michelle. His head was pounding a little, feeling a headache coming on. But if he told her that now, Peter knew he’d never hear the end of it - another thing for her to tease him about. 

Michelle was fascinating and interesting and there were a lot of things he didn’t know about her. But he knew for a fact that she hated liars, fakes, and people who quit. 

He throws it back, feeling the burn against his throat as the liquid went down. His throat feels scratchy and aches but Peter chalks it up to the cheap alcohol. 

Peter winced, swallowed.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

* * *

The beat in the bar is pulsing, just enough to make Peter regret coming out but not enough to want to go home - the alcohol in his system making him feel a whole lot more loose than he’d usually be, even as the headache hadn’t completely gone away. 

May usually had a glass of wine with dinner, Peter drinking a couple of glasses here and there throughout the years. He’d been oddly terrified of getting caught his first few years of college and Gwen - being Catholic - had a weird relationship with alcohol that Peter could never figure out. As a result, he hadn’t drank much in college. 

Now 21 and perfectly legal, Peter wondered if he had really missed all that much. 

The only thing he really can focus on is Michelle, arms above her head as she swayed to the beat - motioning for Peter to dance.

“Come on Parker, use those white boy hips for something more than swaying back and forth.”

Peter laughs, a shiver down his spine as Michelle smiles and leaned in closer, 

“Didn’t I tell you? I used to do ballet as a kid.”

Michelle’s eyes widen, almost comically. “What the _ fuck _? You did WHAT?”

Peter snickers, hands instinctively going towards her hips as she leans in even closer. She doesn’t seem to notice or care, ducking her head to hear him better.

“Yeah, yeah, my aunt thought it would be a good idea. I liked it, it was fun.”

Michelle leans her head back, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“Well aren’t you full of fucking surprises?”

“You swear a lot.” Peter laughing as Michelle moves her body even closer to him.

“And you don’t swear enough. Come on Parker, loosen up.” Her hands wrap around his waist until they’re pressed together, Peter suddenly stilling at her touch. 

He’s drunk but not _ that _drunk, knowing he and Michelle were toeing a dangerous line. He takes a step back, Michelle seemingly catching herself.

“I’m uh, I’m gonna go get something else to drink.”

Michelle just nods before saying, “Yeah. Yeah. Whatever you want. I’m not your mother, Parker.”

He tilts his head at that, turning away before his drunk-addled mind says something stupid in return. He’s not sure why she keeps returning to that phrase, it seems odd coming out of her mouth but Peter dismisses it - the headache he thought was gone returning in full force now that Michelle’s body wasn’t pressed against him. 

Peter has to push and pull his way through the crowd before he makes it to the bar, finding an open seat to slump down on to.

He sighs, rubs his hand across his face - an act he knows won’t sober himself up, even if he feels more clear than he has all night.

Michelle wasn’t _ flirting _ with him, she was just like that. Sarcastic, smart, funny - _ hot _. She looked great in the dress she was wearing, some silver backless number that Peter had let himself study a bit too long as he’d walked behind her on their way to the bar. 

Peter shook his head again, willing himself to not only be sober but to rid that thought process from his mind. 

Michelle was off-limits, she was his roommate - it wouldn’t work, for a variety of reasons. None of which Peter could think of just then. 

But she was right, it _ had _been awhile. 

He motions for the bartender, orders the least expensive thing on the menu before turning back around.

Michelle’s off in the center of the mob of people he’d just left, a part of Peter thinking he should probably let her know that he’s debating going home. He knew she wouldn’t want to leave until she was ready but then Peter wasn’t sure if he should actually just leave her there. 

But then he catches the eye of a girl across the way, a short brunette that smiles back at him. 

Seeing Michelle tonight, feeling the way she pressed up against him - it reminded Peter how much he missed having a girlfriend, someone to dance with and walk home to. Someone to spend the night with. 

And if he couldn’t have a girlfriend, he could at least have some meaningless sex. 

Michelle hadn’t really warned him last week anyway, Peter thought, it’s not like they were really friends.

They were roommates. 

* * *

“Parker, you alive?” Michelle’s pounding on his door feels like thunder in his ears, the pounding in his own head relentless as he blearily opened his eyes. Peter reminds himself why he doesn’t drink - or at least drank to get drunk - but there’s a thought in the back of his mind as he tries to sit up that this doesn’t quite feel like a hangover.

“Parker?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m up. What do you want?” He winces at how awful his voice sounds, his throat feeling dry. 

He can hear Michelle’s laughter through the door. “I don’t want anything but your ass in the kitchen. I told Betty about your famous blueberry pancakes and I figured you’d be in a good mood from last night anyway so hurry up. We’re waiting.”

Peter groans, putting his feet on the floor - his head still feels like lead and his whole body is aching as he stands - stopping for a second as he sees stars. 

_ How much did I have to drink last night? _

He shuffles out of his bedroom, opening the bedroom door to hear music playing in the living room - Michelle seemingly wildly upbeat. He can smell the coffee and knew enough that for as giggly as drunk Michelle was, hungover Michelle was just as off-centered. 

Betty’s perched on one of their barstools, looking back to Peter over her shoulder. Her hair’s in a headband, a look that makes Peter do a double take for how similar she looks to Gwen. He hadn’t been around Betty much in the past few months but now he’s glad for it - thinking that it would have only made everything worse. 

“Morning sunshine. Or really afternoon. I’m surprised you’re here, you don’t strike me as the hit it and quit it type.” 

Betty laughs at Michelle’s comment, Peter rubbing his hand across his face as he shuffled into the kitchen. 

He vaguely remembers last night - admittedly, his experience with random hookups was limited to freshman and half of sophomore year, but he’d been just as surprised that the girl had kicked him out, claiming something about roommates or rent or something Peter couldn’t remember now. 

The sex was fine, Peter didn’t it’d been bad enough to warrant kicking him out but now - opening the fridge as he tried to focus his vision - he wondered if maybe he really did have too much to drink.

“Hello, Parker? You alright?” The teasing in Michelle’s voice is still there but Peter can sense an undercurrent of concern, his breathing getting a little difficult as he tries to focus - his grip on the open fridge door shifting. 

“Hey is he okay?” He can hear Betty’s voice off in the distance, feeling as his ears were underwater. Peter senses Michelle’s hand to his arm, bringing his head up to face her.

“Parker?”

The last thing Peter remembers is the concern in her eyes before his vision blurs and he blacks out. 

* * *

Of all the shit Michelle’s been through - and she’s been through some shit - there are few things that she can think of that were more panic inducing than seeing Peter Parker look like death warmed over, hovering over the open fridge door before collapsing on the kitchen floor. 

She’d been a little pissed at him, not so much for leaving her at Cantab but for leaving her on the dance floor. He had at least had the decency to text her that he was heading out, Michelle catching a glimpse of him hand-in-hand with some brunette as he walked out. 

She’d had a couple of options but the idea of going home with anyone that night lost it’s appeal the minute Peter left, inwardly kicking herself for letting her pride get the better of her last week. 

It was stupid, Michelle didn’t feel _ bad _ about hooking up with Bobby Keane - knowing damn well how much he’d wanted to get into her pants all semester. He wasn’t even that good for as much as he talked, leaving her unsatisfied and a little annoyed that she’d finally caved. 

But Michelle figured that wasn’t the point, regretting not necessarily the decision but the reason behind it.

Peter had called her out without meaning to, a feeling she didn’t care for from anyone - much less Peter fucking Parker, looking ridiculous in that banana costume, even as Michelle still thought he was better looking than half the guys at the party. 

It was dangerous, she’d already told herself that being anything more than roommates with Peter Parker was a disaster in the making. So her heading off with Bobby, him heading off with some random chick out of Cantab - Michelle shouldn’t feel… whatever the hell it was she did when she saw him leave. 

She’d been genuinely surprised to hear him stumble in during the night, her sarcastic comment based in some truth. She didn’t know Peter, really but from what she could tell from their conversations, little hints of how much he had liked Gwen - Peter seemed to be the decent type, the kind of guy that if Michelle didn’t know any better, would think that they didn’t exist. 

The kind that actually asked what you wanted, respected boundaries, the kind of guy you could take home - knowing you wouldn’t regret it in the morning. 

Then again she didn’t really know him, even a few months into living with him and Michelle guessed, that’s what she got from pushing him away. 

But then Peter had swayed unsteadily, blinking a few times before he collapsed. 

Michelle had barely caught him before his head hit the floor, Betty screaming as if someone had been murdered. Peter had been burning up even as he shivered, Michelle wrapping her arms around his bare chest as she screeched at Betty to get Ned. 

The trip to the emergency room had been hell, Betty being useless as Ned drove - each of them knowing that an ambulance would’ve cost them rent for a month and a half. It was a shitty thing but a shittier situation so Michelle dealt with it - taking the lead as they stormed through the hospital doors.

Peter was fine, the flu apparently - even if Michelle’s heart didn’t stop feeling like it was going to burst out of her chest until the doctor gave the okay to take him home. 

Sunday was shot after that, Betty finally getting over herself and helping her and Ned get Peter to his room. They took turns making sure he was okay, but Michelle still took the lead - not trusting Betty or Ned to handle it since they still seemed shaken up by the whole thing. 

And now here she was, sitting by his bed as he tossed and turned - being weirdly thankful that she didn’t have morning classes on Monday. Ned had offered to take first shift since he didn’t have classes at all but Michelle figured she owed Peter, though for what she couldn’t explain. 

Peter stirs, Michelle leaning forward. 

“Hey Parker, you still with us?”

He groans, shaking his head as he blinks a few times, his face scrunching up as turns to her. “How much did I have to drink last night?”

Michelle lets out a laugh, rolling her eyes. “It’s Monday now and it’s not a hangover, genius. You got the flu. Better call the girl you went home with cause I’m pretty sure you gave it to them too.” 

Peter blinks, licking his lips as he looks at her. “Aren’t you scared of being sick?” Michelle shrugs. 

“Got the flu shot so I think I’m set.”

“I don’t think that--”

“Whatever, doesn’t matter. I have first shift anyway to make sure you don’t die before Ned gets here.”

Peter looks even more confused, Michelle laughing to herself at how cute the expression on his face was. She swallows that down before her thoughts can take her places she doesn’t want to go, Peter blinking a few more times. 

“I had class this morning.”

“And now you don’t because you’re sick as fuck. So just, take a nap or something alright?” 

That gets a laugh of Peter, Michelle smiling as he rolls his eyes. “You swear a lot. And you have terrible bedside manner.”

Michelle shrugs again, leaning back in her chair. “I’m a psych major, not nursing. Tough shit, Parker. You’re stuck with me.”

Peter smiles back at her, his forehead slicked with sweat. Michelle instinctively goes to pull the cover over him, Peter furrowing his eyebrows. 

“I’m serious though, you look like death. Take a nap or something.” 

Peter looks like he wants to argue but doesn’t, coughing before he gets the chance to. Michelle immediately goes for tissues, helping him sit up in case anything tries to come up. 

It doesn’t, Michelle feeling a little relieved as he leans back down on the pillow, a shiver running through him as he turns to his side. 

“Thanks, Michelle.”

She’s silent for a beat, Peter going to close his eyes before she speaks up - the words out of her mouth before she can stop them. 

“Call me MJ.”

He blinks one eye open, the look of it making Michelle want to laugh. “MJ? Where’d that come from?” 

“It’s a nickname. Whatever, just--you can call me MJ.”

Peter closes both eyes, snuggling into his pillow in a way that Michelle knows he probably wouldn’t in front of her if he wasn’t so sick and delirious. 

“Thanks, MJ. For taking care of me.”

Michelle bites her lip, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She hadn’t let anyone call her MJ, not since Harry. He’d ruined the name for her, though in some ways Michelle wondered if he’d just ruined her. But she chases the thought away, staring at Peter.

She’s struck with the urge to brush his hair back, even if his forehead was sweaty and gross. She doesn’t, keeping her hand to herself as she watches Peter seemingly drift off back to sleep. 

Once she’s sure he’s not going to suddenly wake up and choke on his vomit, Michelle quietly steps out of the room - looking around the kitchen. 

Pancakes were out, Michelle thinking back to the chicken soup her dad always made when she was sick. She rifled through the pantry to check for ingredients, grabbing her phone to text him and ask what she might be missing. 

Once the text is sent, Michelle glances back to his room - wondering why she was even bothering. 

Being anything more than roommates with Peter Parker was dangerous. 

But then the phone chimes, her dad texting back and Michelle felt resigned.

She couldn't allow herself to be anything more than a roommate to Peter Parker. 

But maybe being his friend wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Google tells me Cantab is a popular bar at MIT but if that’s wrong than whoops.
> 
> Love this little AU so much, I’ve already written two one-shots ahead which is always a good sign.
> 
> Please feel free to scream at me.


End file.
